Mal cleared her throat, put the can on the counter, linked her hands together, then looked over at me. I guessed I wasn't going to like whatever confession she was about to make.

"I called the university."

The tone of her voice made my heart sink. "Did you tell them none of this was my choice?"

Her gaze dropped to the counter. "Merit, they don't admit vampires. They don't have to do it legally, and they're afraid of the lawsuits if one of you was to, you know" - she frowned, waved a hand in the air - "with the teeth and the biting. Honestly, if Helen hadn't done it, the university would have dropped you when they found out."

That seed of hatred unfolded, sprouted. "But I wouldn't have told them," I persisted. "How else would they have known? I could have rearranged my schedule, taken night classes. . . ."

Mallory shook her head, handed me, with somber expression, a folded newspaper that lay on the tabletop. It was the morning's Trib, open to a page that bore the word "CONGRATULATIONS!" in bold Gothic letters across the top.

I popped the paper open. The banner topped off a full-page ad in the lifestyles section. A list of names, twelve columns of them, a dozen names in each column. The text read: The North American Vampire Registry congratulates the following new Initiates. May your service be fruitful and fulfilling.

I scanned the Houses: Navarre, McDonald, Cabot, Cadogan, Taylor, Lincoln, Washington, Heart, Lassiter, Grey, Murphy, Sheridan. My name was listed in the Cadogan column.

My stomach clenched.

"Some reporters called," Mallory quietly said. "They left messages on the machine. They want to talk to you about being a vampire. A Merit vampire."

"Reporters?" I shook my head and chucked the paper back onto the table. "I can't believe this. I can't believe they'd do this. That they'd out me." I scrubbed hands across my face, tried to contain the anger that was beginning to well.

"Are you okay?" Mallory asked.

I dropped my hands and looked at her, willing her to understand. "I could have pretended, made sure no one knew. All I had to do was take evening classes, which wouldn't have been so hard. My committee would have worked with me. Goddamn it! I didn't even get a chance to try!"

The fury rose, quick, hot, and strong. It itched beneath my skin like my body was one size too small to contain it. Like my body didn't fit. I rolled my shoulders in irritation, the anger still swelling.

I wanted to hit something. Fight something. Bite something. I slowly turned my head, cast a covetous glance at the refrigerator.

"Jesus H., Merit."

I flicked a glance her way. Mallory's eyes were wide, her hands clenched at the edge of the countertop. I heard the quick, flat double-thudding of a drum, and realized it was the thump of her heartbeat.

"What?" I whispered.

She reached out a hand, but snatched it back. "Your eyes. Your irises are completely silver."

I ran from the kitchen to the first-floor bathroom, flipped on the light, and stared at myself. She was right. The blue of my eyes had become gleaming silver, the pupils dilated to pinpricks.

Mallory squeezed into the tiny powder room behind me. "You got angry. It must happen when you get angry."

Angry or thirsty, I silently amended, since I'd just considered drinking blood as a means of stress relief.

"Open your mouth."

My eyes still silver, our gazes met in the mirror. I hesitated for a moment, having to work up the courage for it, knowing what I'd see when I did.